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tumblr is basically a gay bar in a mental institute

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no way i just saw people in tiktok comments crying screaming throwing up at the idea of aslan being a jesus figure. worsties the lion literally dies to save edmund (the sinner) and then rises from the dead. he tells the pevensies he can be found under a different name in our world. what else could this have meant

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Why did we ever stop wearing 18th century clothing

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Whenever I see someone refer to "Victorian era-" for places outside the UK I'm tempted to start saying shit like "Han Dynasty era Rome", "Soviet era Australia" etc

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“Check out these blogs” and one of them is “beemovieerotica”

I-

No. No, I don’t think I will, thanks.

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"tumblr humor is only funny to tumblr users" NOT true. those bitches on pinterest love us.

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You can't just casually mention garlic cock man and not tell the story that's against the law

Are you sure you know what you’re asking of me? Are you sure? Well, okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This post is long and contains description of genital injury.

So as you’ll know, I worked three and a half long, hilarious years at an NHS sexual health and contraception clinic. I loved that job, and packed it in because the Tory cuts to the service meant running it became hideously untenably stressful, but that’s a story for another time. 

One of my duties at the clinic was to take phone calls. Patients liked me on the phone because I have a nice voice and I’m basically completely unflappable, and they felt happy to tell me things. A vital skill in the wang biz.

One day, a man called. This was not unusual.  “Hello,” he said. “I need to see one of your nurses about my, er, my chap.”

“Righty-oh sir,” I said, “are you experiencing any symptoms that you’re concerned about? It’s just a yes or no kind of question.”

“Well,” he said, and I instantly felt a dark and terrible energy pulsate down the phone.  “Well… sort of. But, uh, it’s not symptoms of anything, it’s just…”

I would come to regret what I said next. “Is everything all right, sir?”

“Well.”  There was a pause. I heard fidgeting.  “I got a yeast infection.”

Phew, easy peasy. Yeasties are easy to fix. I sounded reassuring and buoyant. “Well that’s nothing to worry about, sir - if you don’t want to get anything over the counter from the chemist, we can-”

“No, no, that’s not the problem. Listen -” he sounded serious. “Listen, I’ll just tell you what’s the matter, and you’ll see what I mean.”

This is where, whenever I tell this story, I like to ask the listener to play a little game with me. The game is “Where Would You Tap Out?”  I’d have already tapped out by going to the chemist and getting some Canestan.

“I didn’t want any chemicals on my chap, so I decided to go for a home remedy.  Internet said garlic was good for yeast infections, and I’ve got a lot of garlic, so I figured that’d be all right.”

I made sympathetic noises.  Home remedies for yeast infections are normal, and garlic is actually quite effective.  “Oh good,” I said.

“I wasn’t sure how much to use, but I figured, I have a lot of garlic usually, so I minced a whole bulb.”

The dark energy wafting down the phone intensified.

“I packed it all over my, you know, knob, made a poultice.  Packed it all over the head, like a hat.  But, uh, I wasn’t sure how to keep it on..”

I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to scare him off by sounding judgemental.

“..so I just duct taped it all on. Wrapped duct tape all round it.”

Still with us?  Tapped out yet?

“So er, that worked, kept it on nice and tight, and I left it on over night.”

Over night. All night with your cock mummified in garlic paste like some sort of fiendish chicken kiev.

“But, uh, when I took it off the next morning, well… garlic is…”

“Caustic,” I said, before I could stop myself. “Garlic is caustic.”

“Yeah! Yeah, it is!” he said, sounding cheerful that I, too, understood the Way of Garlic.  “So I unwrapped my dick and, well, it looked kind of like… melted.”

I sat, silent, on the phone. Already I’d missed 6 other calls, watching them sail by on the other line while this saga unfolded. 

“So I figured,” he continued, the terrible juggernaut barrelling unstoppably through this phallic disaster, “I should probably exfoliate it.”

“Exfoliate,” I echoed weakly.

“Yeah,” said this abject human disaster, misinterpreting my echolalic expression of horror as hearty encouragement.  “So I had a look around the kitchen -” he was in the kitchen for all this “- for anything I could use and got my brillo pad-”

For anyone not in the UK, that’s what we call one of these:

I must have betrayed myself and given a gasp of horror at that point, because he quickly reassured me - “No, no, no, it’s okay - it was a new one!” before going on to describe scrubbing the affected area to remove the alkaline chemical burn that he’d inflicted on his poor, blameless cock.

“So you want to come in because of… this?” I said, assuming he would want a new dick by this point.

“Oh no, no -” he said, jovial again. “No, it’s all fine - it just, my knob’s gone all… well, it kind of looks camo print now.  I was wondering if you could do anything about it looking camo print.”

No, sir. No, neither we nor anyone else can do anything about your camo print garlic cock mistake.

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hate when people think the only archetype possible for a male sidekick to a female protagonist is a soft boi and/or himbo. like the implication there is that the only reason a man would ever defer to a woman’s authority is if he was a bumbling idiot. love male supporting characters who are smart and strong and confident and can step up when necessary but still kind and humble enough to let someone else take the lead most of the time

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baby dragons whose scales are much more shiny and iridescent in order to hide in their parents' hoards

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im into some fucked up shit. raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. brown paper packages tied of with strings. i could go on but you couldnt even handle it

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a treasure found antiquing today

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Today I cried a little bit because I remembered that when Beethoven conducted his ninth symphony for the first time he got a standing ovation and one of the sopranos had to turn him around to see the audience.